


To Build a Home

by SaintPellegrino



Category: Legend of Zelda, Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword
Genre: F/M, Future Fic, Home, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-23 08:19:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/620018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaintPellegrino/pseuds/SaintPellegrino
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was as if Zelda could never get used to the Surface. Something just didn't sit right with her, whether it was from homesickness or general loneliness - until Link decides to change that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Build a Home

My eyes, heavy with sleep and wishing to fall back into dreamland, refuse to open. My other senses appeared to be operating perfectly fine, for the most part. I could feel the warmth of the sun’s rays streaming from the stained glass ceiling, casting jagged patterns on my pale skin and dress. The tiny prickles of the moss beneath me tickle my neck ever so lightly, as moisture from that very same moss slowly seeps into my back. The distinct smell rising from the bundle of clothes beneath me distanced my being even further from a state of sleep – sweat, but something that was also a bit pleasant, but I couldn’t place what exactly it was.

However, it was actually a sound that truly woke me, and not one that I expected. It wasn’t the pleasant songs of the tiny birds, who would dance around my ankles as I walked through the forest and flew away if I went too quickly. The wind that howls at night and through the hall was calm and tranquil, leaving the Temple to be peaceful as it once was. Rather, the intruding, obnoxious noise of metal slamming onto metal with as much force as anyone could muster destroyed anyone’s idea of having a perfect day, animal or human.

I roll over from my oh-so-comfortable patch of moss, lazily muttering that silly boy’s name to somehow harken him to a state of consciousness, even though I could barely hear myself speaking. He’s always absolutely _horrible_ at waking up. I slowly crawl on my hands and knees to the other side of the circle, my part to his. Crossing this boundary always gives me a sense of adrenaline – as if I was doing something wrong, though it didn’t feel as so. The absence of that boy’s prone body, not crossing some territorial line, was what actually frightened me.

Dread settled over me like a cold shroud. In the weeks that we’ve been on the surface, Link was rarely apart from me. If something did come up, which was rare, he would let me know what was going on before skiving off to do… whatever it is that he does. Even if he heard something in the dead of night, Link never hesitated to rouse me from my sleep, whispering rushed words to my half-awake state that he was leaving me. He still does this, day after day, even though we are still the only souls living in this wilderness.

It’s comforting that he does this. For both of our sakes.

We haven’t been able to lapse into our old friendship. I don’t expect we ever will. Too much has changed, for both of us. I can tell it even with how I act. I can’t tease him without feeling a pang of guilt, I can’t touch him without fear of reopening a wound or touching a bruise, I can’t help him with anything without apologizing endlessly, I can’t joke around about the other Skyloftians - particularly because they don’t exist in our tiny world that we’ve made for us. Everything is so delicate between us; you could cut the tension with a knife. And Link can tell too. He’s quieter, more watchful, more… protective, for lack of better vocabulary. There’s a different look in his eyes, from what little eye contact we’ve had. It’s feral, and understanding at the same time. Like he’s watching every move I make, drinking me in greedily, as if I were a work of art that he can’t look at forever, not an old friend who’s seen him run in panic from an angry Remlit at night.

I can see why he would treat me differently. _I_ would treat myself differently. I’m more to blame than him in this, for the most part. It will be my fault. If only the gods realize how much could change in such a small amount of time.

I stood, wincing as the laziness was cast out, my bones finally beginning to work properly. The persistent rapping from outside the Temple continues, and I wait for silence to triumphantly return.

Only it doesn’t.

 Feeling more worried than I already was, I crossed the floor to the doors, pausing to glance at the vine-covered sword a few yards apart from me. Despite the fact that the Temple was the only habitable structure known to us, it is logical to stay here in order to watch over the Master Sword. Not that it truly needed watching over anyway. It could do just fine by itself. _She_ would be fine. I know it. I trusted her, and she did well.

It seemed useless, at times, to watch over something that didn’t need to be watched over. Instead, it seemed like homage, or a “thank you” to her, for all that she did for the world – and Link. He couldn’t let go of his friend, from what little he told me about her and from what I could remember about all those months ago, and I could never forgive myself if something terrible happened to something Hylia – I – created.

So here we stay, keeping our vigil, checking every so often to see if anything has changed. Which it doesn’t. And never will. We live in the past, in a sense, while we avoid our evolving present selves. I tear my eyes from the holy blade and go to the doorknob, slowly opening the heavy gateway to the outside world. My weary, sleep-heavy eyes were replaced with scrunched-up eyes and a wrinkled nose from the brightness of the sun, though it was so much farther away than I was used to back home.

Home.

I chastised myself for a moment. Home is _here._ The surface. Not in the clouds, where everything I was used and comfortable with now resides.

But isn’t home supposed to be the place where you feel most welcome? Somewhere you’re glad to return to at the end of the day, where you are safe from any mal-intentioned people in this dark world? A sanctuary of sorts?

As if. This place, as comforting it was to not be afraid of missing a step and falling beneath the clouds, was nothing I could quite call “home” yet. I miss a bed to curl up in. I miss being able to simply steal a book from my father’s study when I was bored and read it late into the night. I just miss spending long hours with my best friend, when days would loll by into a meaningless blob and I couldn’t remember doing anything significant that day. Well, I miss spending time with him. If I’m trying to be accurate with defining our relationship, it would be that I miss spending time with my “friend” now.

The rapping becomes louder with each passing second, tearing me from my unneeded thoughts about a boy that barely pays me the time of day anymore. I cautiously dragged myself up the worn path to the archway leading into Faron Woods Link built. He wanted to make “better fortifications” or something stupid like that, but gave up on it when he realized there were barely any monsters left. At least not enough to be a threat. I was even about to drop down, and spend the day simply exploring what I’ve already combed through thousands of times already. I stopped myself -  I saw something extraordinary, almost fantastic to look at, even though any normal person would probably glance over it with not a second thought.

I ducked behind one of those pillars, barely peeking out from it to drink in all that was below me. Amid the whole trees and sawed-up trees and branches tossed aside and leaves scattered all willy-nilly was a small little skeleton of some type of building. Quaint, but yet barely put together. I knelt down, moisture seeping through my dress to my knees. It had four walls, from what I could tell, with rectangular holes placed every few feet, wide enough to look in to or out of. The wood looked newly-cut, with shaving clumped in little piles around the perimeter of the walls. A slight rush of wind blew by me and upset those little piles, scattering the tiny pieces of wood about the clearing. It took all my self-control to hold in a sneeze, which was actually an excruciatingly painful experience.  I swiveled my eyes around the building, seeing two sides from my current position. There was a peculiar hole, larger than the rest, in the center of one wall – a door? My eyes went up, rising with the sloping walls until one side met with the opposite side in a triangle. I shielded my eyes from the blinding sun, compromising security for comfort. On top of that very same triangle, legs dangling on either side and his back thankfully to me, was a boy. A boy that could very well be called a man at this point in his life, as much as I wanted to deny that he was a man. A man that I was very much falling in love with.

That’s a bit dramatic. Even for a hormonal girl like myself. It was stretching it. I could just go with “I am definitely attracted to Link and my feelings go beyond the normal platonic, friendship stage that we have been stuck in for gods know how many years.”

Oh yes. Fi would be proud of Hylia for her rational, not-as-impulsive reasoning.

He was placing planks over a wide gap in front of him, slapping vines and sap and gods know what on them and gingerly placing them on the top beam, over the gap of whatever it is that he is constructing. His face was lowered, and out of my view. I could probably guess that his brow was furrowed and his worn fingers were slightly shaking, in anxiety that something could possibly go wrong. His tunic stretched with his hunched shoulders, and his toes were clenched, keeping his balance all the while. When the plank was sufficiently set in place for him, Link slid off the top, out of sight, and dropped to the ground with an audible _thump_. I almost released a cry of concern, reflexively covering my mouth beforehand.

He doesn’t want me here. _I_ wouldn’t want me here. It’s his little project, free from my clumsy interference.

But it was all too much. Too much temptation for such a weak-willed girl like myself.

With precious moments of freedom, I stepped down from my tiny ledge so slowly clinging to the vines for dear life. My feet quietly crunched the dew-laden crystals as I made my way across the clearing to this building-type-thing.

The four walls and the roof weren’t as crude as my first conjectures made it out to be. (That’s a new word. Conjecture. Didn’t know that one beforehand. Must be another perk to having blood of the goddess in me). In fact, it was sturdy as any building in Skyloft, or what I remember of it, and more care and feeling was put into it than I had ever seen in a building. From what I could tell, the wood was sanded to a flush, smooth surface, with not infuriating splinters jutting out and ready to find some hapless prey. My hand caressed the wood gently, proving my assumptions to be accurate. I kept my hand to the wood as I walked a few paces to a gaping hole; wide enough to fit my head and arms through if I really wanted to go through all that trouble.  The inside was furnished already, as sparse as it was. A round table was in the center of the room with a single chair tucked under its edge, with tiny pieces of wood still haphazardly thrown about the surface. Built-in counters and shelves encompassed the perimeter of the tiny room, even though one or two appear to be sort of slanted. It looked way better when I turned my head to the side.  Sunlight streamed in from the half-finished roof. It cast bars of light across the furniture, making a pattern of dark and light streaks. A box, rectangular in shape and large in size, with two handles close together in the middle of its front side, occupied the far corner of the room. I stuck my head inside the window, breaching any protocol inside my mind that said not to snoop. The box was intricately detailed, so smoothly carved – and something clicked in my head.

It would’ve taken _hours_ of dedication to build this box. But for what purpose?  
Another little something clicked.  
A wardrobe.

That means…

My vision flew along the far wall, craning my neck to pick out the last remaining objects. My arms supported my weight, and my feet lifted from the dusty ground. Just a little more –

“Having a bit of a peek, are we?” A clear voice I knew all too well rang in my head, though his tone was a bit more forced than I ever thought could emit from him. My brief moments of adrenaline were swiped away like an extinguished candle.

I couldn’t help but to childishly sigh as I wiggled down from the window ledge. Lightly dropping to the ground, my eyes tracked up his patched trousers to that musty tunic he still insisted on wearing. He knew they were worn and ragged, almost on their last threads. But he treasured them, cared for them nonetheless. They were essentially his last tangible connection to the world so high above us. It wasn’t like we could pay visits to the Lumpy Pumpkin anymore. Those days are long gone.

Nothing is quite the same.

“Zelda? Are you still there?” I forced myself to look up, to make solid eye contact with Link. His eyes, dozens of shades darker than mine, crinkled at the edges in his teasing. He lazily leaned against the building, not a care in the world.

Be normal, Zelda. _Normal._

“Yes yes, I heard you,” I started, stammering a bit. “I didn’t mean to come crashing in and interrupt your little…”

“Project,” Link clarified.

“Sure, your project.” I gestured absentmindedly above me. “Seeing you’re so mad, I’ll just be on my way.” I shuffled my feet back, clearly giving my intention.

“Don’t!” Link interrupted me once more, eyes wide. “Don’t go. I wasn’t mad.” His voice began to quiet, dropping by the second. “How could I ever be mad at you?”

I instinctively crossed my arms, a typical defense mechanism. “You sounded pretty mad.”

“More annoyed than anything else.”

“Explain ‘annoyed’ to me and how it’s different from being pissed at me.”

Link readjusted that old floppy hat. “That’s a bit of a jump, going from mad to pissed.” His hair became even more mussed. Didn’t that boy know the definition of a comb?

Right. He’s a boy. Of course he doesn’t. “Same difference” I lamely finished.

“I didn’t want you to see this yet.”

“It’s kinda hard to hide a construction project, Link.”

“I know, I know.” He plucked off his hat and scratched his head, eyes trained to the sky. “It was supposed to be a surprise.” He looked as if a heavy burden was suddenly dropped on his shoulders, explaining his sudden slouching.

“A surprise… for me?” I might have been one of the better students at the Knight Academy, but I definitely never learned how to read social cues adeptly.

“No, for the tiny birds.” His deadpan tone registered a large amount of shock on my face, which was evident when Link’s shy glance upward quirked his mouth into a smile. He quickly turned, jamming that stupid hat back on his head, and strode away from my dumbstruck body.

His dirty-blonde head already rounded the corner before I regained my composure. “Link, wait!” I turned around the corner, shouting at him like I haven’t in months. “Link, you get back here right this instant or I’ll - ” I broke off when I saw a long, thin shadow stretching in front of me on the ground. It mirrored the half-built structure, rectangle to triangle and everything.

However, a little figure was perched on the long skinny shadow at the top. How peculiar. The figure rocked back and forth, like a small child riding on a Loftwing for the very first time. I realized how silly I must look, head cocked to my shoulder and staring at the ground like a nincompoop. I slowly looked upward, shielding my face from the sun. I only saw Link, on top of the long beam once again. His handsome face (oh gods, how did he become so handsome in such a short period of time without me noticing) was stretched into a careless grin, but it quickly fell when his mirthful gaze locked with my more somber one. We stayed like that for a few moments, neither willing to end the stalemate. I rocked back and forth on my heels, while his palms tightened and loosened on the long plank. I couldn’t possibly imagine what would be running through that mind of his at a time like this. I didn’t want to know. I do know what was going through mine.

How did we come to this?

Two best friends, now nothing more than acquaintances in a strange land. I could feel my heart almost ripping in two while reflecting on the past, and tearing once more to imagine the future if nothing changed.

Link’s stony face looked unwilling to make the first move in this tug-of-war, guarded as always. I squinted my eyes to get a proper look at him, in order to not be blinded by the sun behind him.

“Why?” My question rang throughout the clearing, and his face noticeably registered it.

“Why what?”

“Why all _this_?” Frustrated with his dull response, I nearly screamed at his blinking, passive face. “Why did you just sneak off this morning? Why are there a bunch of trees just plopped down in this clearing? You _know_ we made a promise to not hurt the surface any more than we already have! How did this thing,” I paused to catch my breath, pointing widely at what Link was perched on top of, “appear overnight in this clearing? Do you even know how to build something?”

“It’s a house.”

“And why is it only – what did you say?” I was so full of steam that I didn’t even notice Link cutting into my rant.

“This is a house,” he repeated, a smile spreading over those oh-so-attractive features. Damn him and his delectable features.

I honestly didn’t know how to reply. “This is a house,” I muttered.

“Yes. A house.” Link’s voice sounded even more triumphant the second time.

“You built me a _house._ ”

“You said it yourself.”

“Why in the world would you build me a _house_?”

Link loudly sighed, rubbing his chin. “Well, I haven’t finished it yet. I wouldn’t want to give you a half-built house.”

It was now my turn to sigh. “Just answer the question, Link.”

“All right, all right, calm it down.” His tone seemed genuine, but his face looked anything but – stormy, as if there was a hidden anger boiling over inside him. “I don’t really have a reason, you see.”

“Everyone has a reason behind any action they do. It’s how humans work. It’s how humans survive.” My detached tone surprised myself.

“Would that be my Zelda talking, or goddess-Zelda talking?” His words, slightly twisted with mockery, hit home.

“I… I’m not too sure.” I looked down from Link and back up, fingers lacing and unlacing quite nervously. He must have thought better of his precarious position on the beam, as he scooted over to where the edge of the roof began and empty space ended. Or vice-versa, depending on your viewpoint. From there, Link grappled for grips for his fingers and boot, and swung himself onto the roof with surprising gentleness. He slid down, slowing his descent with kidding his boots against the wood, and unceremoniously dropped to the ground. I threw my hands to my face to stop a cry of surprise from escaping – why should I be so concerned for his safety? It’s only a ten or fifteen foot drop.

Why should I even care? He’s been through worse. Nothing that I could even begin to imagine.

Link straightened from his crouch, dusting off the wood shavings clinging to his trousers. “It seems dumb to be shouting at each other when I can just be right here,” he said sheepishly.

Lowering my hands, I futilely slapped away the rising dust cloud from his landing. “Then why climb to the roof in the first place?”

“I know what you’re like when you’re mad at me.”

“We were just having civil conversation.” My exasperation was growing by the minute. “I wasn’t mad.”

“Best to leap out of the way than get bowled over by you.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but thought better of it. Didn’t I push him into the river back at Skyloft when he dropped my essay for Instructor Owlan in the mud? Didn’t I purposely cover his room with pastries so Keese would fly in at night, pecking him to death? Didn’t I use to “borrow” his homework when I forgot to do mine?

How selfish I used to be. How uncaring. How… _rude_.

Link went right on ahead, and I couldn’t tell if he noticed my pensive pause, though he still carefully watched me while talking. “Well, you’re anything but happy these days. You’re up and down, cross and impatient and quiet and all over the place.”

“I am not cross!” I exclaimed despite myself, with an all-too-knowing smirk from Link following up. “Maybe a bit then.”

“You are. Don’t deny it.” Link placed his hands on his sides and took a few tentative steps forward. “I wanted to get you out of your funk. Put a smile back on your face. Make things seem not as bad.”

I reached the conclusion before he did. “So you built me a house.”

“Yup. I did.”

“Just to make me happy.”

“It was a culmination of reasons, thank you very much. That’s one of them. Another was to get you out from that moldy Temple. I was still awake last night when it started to rain a bit, so I-“

“Rain?” I felt horrible for interrupting him. I really did. This is the largest amount of words we’ve exchanged in a good while. I didn’t want to stop.

He blinked, as puzzled as I was. “Yes. Rain,” saying the word as if it were the most normal, everyday thing in the world.

“Yes yes yes, but what is it?” Link blinked again in disbelief, still stumped by the words coming out of my mouth. I patiently waited for his mind to put the jigsaw pieces together.

“Oh,” he first said, a note of understanding in his voice. I nodded with a slight smile, giving him the go-ahead to explain. “Of course you don’t know what rain is. Perfect weather in Skyloft and everything.”

“Yeah, it does quite a number on your perception of the weather,” I sarcastically added.

“I’ll explain as well as I can. Or I’ll just tell you what I remember from Fi.” Link cleared his throat, as if to add extra emphasis. “It’s water. The same water from rivers and streams that you see in the forest. Basically the same water we had in Skyloft.”

I cut in, my ego overpowering my will to let Link steal the intellectual spotlight. “But it’s not the same.”

“Kinda is, if you think about it.  But rain falls to the ground from the clouds in tiny little droplets.”

“Why?”

He looked at me blankly. “Fi told me why, but I didn’t get what she was going on about.” His green-clad shoulders shrugged nonchalantly. “I kinda tuned her out after a few words.”

“Sounds like that happened a lot.” I said it half to Link, half apologetically to the very being that helped Link destroy Demise, who was ignored half the time by the Goddess’ – or my – Chosen Hero. Sorry, Fi.

“It did,” he agreed. “A few droplets started to seep through the cracks in the ceiling and sides of the windows, so I moved our gear to a sheltered spot and fixed a few branches to keep you dry.”

No wonder there was a copious amount of dew. No wonder I was freezing this morning, but I was still dry.

“Those hours actually sucked. They really did. I was wet, cold, and severely mad that the ceiling needed repairs but you never let me go on the roof.” His face was still smiling through his earlier annoyance with my sleeping state. It was true – It looked like that ceiling would fall any second, but I never would let him go up on it. His smile fell as he continued on “The Temple was never a good shelter for you either. So when it stopped raining, which was probably very late at night, I set out from the Temple to build you a better shelter.” Link finished his explanation with a serious expression but mirth in his eyes. I could only stare back.

His story fit together – the branches of that giant tree looked different than the day before and the ground squelched mud and moisture between my toes with every step I took. The trees were even still wet, with large raindrops glistening on the leaves and precariously dripping down from the branches.

“What about you?” I blurted out the words I wanted to avoid before I could catch myself.

The corners of his mouth lifted upward once again. “Good question,” he started out. He crossed his arms and shrugged before going on. “I built this for _you_. Not me.” My throat felt dry, despite the moisture-laden air. “Besides, someone needs to watch over the Master Sword.”

“And the Triforce.”

“And you,” he muttered, barely loud enough for me to hear, but quiet enough for me to truly get his meaning. There I noticed something uncharacteristic; something different in him has changed in just the past few weeks.

He didn’t quite blush when we grazed each other by accident. He didn’t stumble over or mix up his words like he used to do when nervous. He didn’t trail off in his sentences, off in another daydream of his. He would compliment me on the littlest, most trifling details that I would lock away the phrases he said to me in the back of my mind, to save and remember and only think about in the dark of the night, when I was sure that it was only me and my thoughts still awake.

In fact, I don’t mind this new Link. Not even a little bit. Maybe I like it.

I jerk myself away from my thoughts to see Link’s adorably confused face peering back at my possibly-drooling expression.

My eyes flew across each side of the clearing, searching for the nearest sharp impediment to impale myself on to escape from my shame.

“I need to get back to building your new home.” Link’s voice showed no sign that he was going to turn tail and run in fright, at least for the time being. I let out a deep exhale as I touched my chin, breathing normally when I felt no saliva.

“I’ll let you do that then.” His words, seeming like a dismissal, made me turn toward the forest, my original destination. My thoughts were frantic with how to arm myself from potential monsters and dealing with this new encounter with Link as I only took too few steps before I was interrupted once again.

“Hey! _Hey!_ ” Link’s shouts halted me in my tracks. I quietly faced him, still standing where I left him.

Without meaning to, impatience crept into my voice. “Yes?”

“Zelda…” His tone was pleading, and his face equally so. “Do you think you could… stay? For a bit?”

“I don’t want to intrude anymore. This was supposed to be a surprise, according to you.” My biting words made me want to pitch myself over a cliff. What’s the point in being rude to a guy that’s building you a _house?_

“You don’t have to help. You don’t even have to talk to me while I’m working.” The toe of his right boot dug into the ground, making a small dirt pile. “Zelda, I want you to stay.”

It was my turn to look like the confused idiot. “You want me to stay.” I took a step back to his statuesque figure, then another.

“I _ask_ that you stay.”

I strode to the side of the side of the clearing, a shady part on the far side, where the grass didn’t look terribly damp and was still shielded from the sun. I could hear his boots walk in my direction, as if to block my supposed exit route.

I turned and pressed my back against the naturally formed cliff, seeing Link frozen mid-stride. I slide down the wall to sit, watching his features shift from anger, to disbelief, and finally surging happiness. A smile spread over my own face, holding back giggles as Link just stood there with an inquisitive look of concern.

He actually thought I would leave him. How novel.

A vein jumped in his throat, pulsating over a particularly jagged scar. They seemed countless, innumerable, and I swear more appear daily. They were all over his body – arms, legs, his back, and those hidden areas I doubt I’ll live to see. He’s living tapestry, telling the tale of the great War between the Goddess, her Hero, and unadulterated Evil. He gave everything, while I gave so little.

I’ll never know how he survived through all that pain. I’ll never know what kept him going.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, Link’s smile faded as he whirled around, heading back to the half-built structure that was to be my new home. Well, maybe it’s three-quarters done.

I watched him as he pulled plank after plank of wood onto that roof, putting the final touches on the house. I wasn’t bored, not at all. It was interesting, or entertaining, seeing Link methodically set up each part of the roof in its proper place. It was unlike anything I’ve seen from him, the impulsive boy who would idly swoop around my own Loftwing, or the hero that clawed and tore at the fiends around him. No, this was the man who had been the one constant in my life, and hopefully will always be that one constant.

Now that just sounded disgusting. Way to breach that large expanse between platonic and romantic feelings. Way. To. Go.

The minutes ambled into hours. I stayed content with the inner mechanisms of my mind; Link continued to construct the house, doing gods know what inside and out. Every so often he would take a break on top of that shaky beam and look back at my still-sitting self. It was only then that my obvious staring was noticed. He would try to get my attention through having staring contests, while I was slightly obsessing over him in a very embarrassingly inappropriate way.

This was only infatuation. Like that one time with Pipit, when you liked him for all of five hours before you remembered that yellow looks gross and should never be worn by people of light complexion like Pipit.

But I did revel in the fact that the tiny amount of pink that tinged Link’s cheekbones was completely visible in the sun, while the shade concealed my burning face.

At the same time, those stolen glances and looks he had every so often up on the roof seemed different altogether. His expression was guarded and unreadable, like always. For a moment, just the briefest moment, his eyes would dart up and down my body, and then resumed his gaze with my own perplexed and worried orbs. However, his azure eyes weren’t filled with laughter or hurt or anything I knew and was accustomed to for the duration of our friendship. It was as if he wanted to leap down from that roof, pick me up from my very comfortable position, and carry me off to some tranquil place where only the two of us would know what would occur there.

That’s what I was thinking. And I had no doubt that the longing in his eyes was deliberate, and I deliberately returned his sentiments. He would then return to his work, banging louder than the time before.

A single thought pranced through my head as my breaths became deeper and my eyes began fluttering. It gnawed at me, like a parasite does to its host.

Yes, Link was building me a house. I truly could not be more grateful, all that thankful stuff, blah blah blah. My new home in this new world. Or that’s what it’s supposed to be. But it doesn’t feel like _home_.  Home is in the sky. At least that’s what I used to think. He’s giving me a present so fantastic and wonderful that I don’t know what to do with it.

What even makes a home?

My eyes fall to darkness before I can answer.

**XXX**

Sleep is dark for me. It has been for awhile. No mystical dreams or hellish nightmares for me – only blackness, blackness as far and wide as I could ever possibly imagine. It’s a dreamless sleep, in which only the cursed or the exhausted learn to experience. In a sense, I’m one of them, part of their ranks. I try to tell myself I’m not, but I am.

_Enough of the half-asleep ramblings_. The sun’s last rays smear over the sky, the dying embers of the day before night rears its vicious head. I didn’t realize I slept for so long. I meant to close my eyes for only a few moments, to pass the time while Link finished up his work. It was rude, I know. And I probably missed out on quite a show. But I slept anyway, with many regrets.

Now it was dusk, with no Link in sight. He wouldn’t just skive off with any reason; no normal person does such a thing. He didn’t even wake me to let me know he was heading from my side, like he used to. Not even a note, hastily scratched on a leaf and waiting in my hand for me. There was practically no trace of him, not even a thread, save for the tidy house that was standing a few yards away from me, blatantly asking to be occupied.

Some improvements _did_ occur in my unconscious state. There was actually a roof now, and protective covering for the windows inside the structure were also added. The sawed-up trees and dust was cleared away, leaving the lonely house in the clearing. I squinted, seeing the door was slightly ajar, beckoning to me.

I didn’t exactly want to keep sitting in the growing shadow, listening to the chirps and calls of the animals in the forest become frenzied in the late hours. Gods know what comes prowling about in this forsaken time of day. I ended up pushing myself up from my comfortable niche, already missing the spot as my body was exposed to the cool night air. Even my neck cracked, free from being pressed against the crumbling wall. I lightly brushed off flecks of dirt that were hanging onto the linen of my dress, marring its purity.

My feet, as if by some force besides my own muscles and skeletal system cooperating, moved across my grassy patch to the large expanse of dirt. Tiny wood shavings, not picked up by Link’s apparent cleaning, slid inside my sandals and rubbed against my skin. A hand, attached to an arm that was attached to my body, mechanically reached out as I came closer to the door, akin to a sleepwalker on a starry night. It shook, almost imperceptibly. Both hands have started doing that, ever since I was knocked down here, as if my body has begun operating independently from my evolving mental state.  My fingers touched the cool door, testing the ridges and swirls and grooves of whatever material trees are made of. Link has inconveniently left that out in my education of the surface world. I feel like I should already know it. Although my hand did this on its own, I used it sort as an imprinting, to remember this feeling – _home_ – for as long as I could. My palm flattened against the door, ignoring the doorknob, and pushed into it to reveal what is to be my new home.  
  
The sun slowly gave way to the night sky, as moonbeams splayed across the room, sneaking in from tiny slats in the windows and minuscule gaps in the ceiling. I stepped over the raised threshold. Quiet footsteps, the first to baptize this place, pawed their way across the planks until I came to a standstill in the center of the room. Nothing truly changed from my last peek in. At least from what I could remember before sleep snatched it away. A tussle of flowers graced the table, neutralizing the earthy aroma, intertwining the two until I couldn’t even begin to describe the new combination. The counters were adorned with various plates and bowls, placed at random as if he was in a hurry to put the finishing touches on the house. They were crude and decently shaped, but my chest unfamiliarly tightened as I noticed more and more or Link’s simple additions. They truly made the difference.

Faint lights flickered on every surface of the room. I looked up, craning my neck to see ledges scattered close to the ceiling. They held cages of some sort, holding insects that would buzz and pulsate with light. Their buzzing was barely audible, though not to the point of annoyance. He built more shelves during my sleep. Dozens were placed high and low in the one room. I could already tell I would never be able to reach the topmost ones. I cursed him and his talent to covertly annoy me, in which he has unsurprisingly become an expert in only a few years. And it surprises me that he can still to it today, after he’d – we’d – been through so much.

The wide bed, tucked in the corner of the house, finally captured my attention. The frame was a light color, different from the rest of the material that made up the structure. My eyes could also be deceiving me in this shoddy light. The bed itself was fairly simple – white coverlets and sheets, tucked neatly in each corner, with not creases or wrinkles to notice. Just the way I liked it. Nothing was out of the ordinary, as if I never left the Knight Academy. My mind began to scream for my old quilt as I remembered home – was it blue? Pink? I furiously went through my mind, opening and scanning old memories like a crazed file clerk would. I couldn’t remember it for the life of me.

It’s been too long. Much too long. I wanted to stick a fork in my eye and twist it for forgetting something so endearing, so timeless to me. It was even embarrassing. I wanted to take my anger out on the innocent, unsuspecting bed, to rip apart the sheets and spark a flint to the bed frame and punch the feather-light pillows. I wanted to punish the bed for trying to replace the bed I slept in all my life. I wanted to tear this shack apart for trying to be my new home. I wanted to beat Link senseless for even attempting to build a home out of nothing, for trying to make life a bit brighter when I thought everything was darkness, and for being absolutely wonderful when I was completely and wholeheartedly undeserving of him.

He’s awfully frustrating, even with being perfect. No human could quite be perfect, but he cuts it close. It’s possible to shift him away from the bad table manners and the bottled-up feelings and latent aggressiveness to become… an above average human being. If I’m being modest. But it’s more than possible. He has basically already done it.

My hand traced the edge of the headboard forcing myself to be preoccupied before my head exploded with pent-up emotion. That would not be a pretty sight. I was too wrapped up with my jumbled and absentminded thoughts, jumping from how Link managed to carve all this in a matter of hours to daydreaming about the burgeoning contours on that boy’s body that I never noticed before, to hear the groaning of planks underneath a second, heavier weight. The child I played with in short, hazy days toned his form and changed his silhouette, becoming all but a stranger to me as he leaned against the rectangular doorway. His face went in and out of sight, with the flickering lights playing with his features. A smile crept up, at least from what I could tell in this light.  
  
“Enjoying yourself?” I knew he was just making fun of me, but I seemed to lately be taking everything too seriously. Like everything had an ulterior motive, another meaning.

I had no way to respond to him decently. “Link, I honestly can’t even begin to thank you enough. I-”

“Don’t mention it,” he interrupted, soundly cutting me off from a drawn-out apology. “Really, it was nothing.” Link shoved his hands deep into his pockets, glancing at every object and facet of the little house.

“Of course it’s something…” I truly couldn’t find the words that would fully capture the scope of my gratitude. I never could, never would. “Thank you. For all this.” My hands sheepishly went to my sides, as I became more and more self-conscious like I never had before.

“You needed a place to call home, so I did my best.” He took a step closer, maybe a few meters away, wincing when the planks squeaked in protest. His gruffness surprised me, like the speaker wasn’t my best friend, but a stranger merely trying to get away from the crazy girl.

“What about you?” I took another step to him.

Link’s smiling face was betrayed by his icy eyes. “This is for you. I’ll be fine.”

“ _No_.” My authoritative tone surprised myself. “It’s not right.”

“I can’t give gifts anymore?”

“I can’t be all happy and dandy here with you doing gods-know-what, with nowhere to come home to.”

“I’ll be around, it’s fine. We already went through this.” The volume of his voice rose, steadily but not alarmingly.

“It’s not right!” I took a breath, not wanting to lose my head. “What will you do?”

“My home is wherever you are.” His tongue tripped over the words like they were flooding out from his brain to his mouth before Link had a chance to stop himself. The silence hung over us like a heavy weight, ready to crush whatever was left of our relationship if we didn’t make it out of this next minute alive.

I was too startled to say anything. I was at a great precipice, ready to fall forward into whatever was waiting right below me, or to play it safe and step back, never getting hurt or feeling any pain. I was stuck, with the girl I once was screaming to wrap my arms around Link and never let him go, and my past life trying to rationally sort out ever possible scenario. My mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. Link’s face drew together after perceiving my not-so-obvious inner turmoil.

Link slid back. “I’m… I’ll be on my way then.” His back turned and was out the door before I could even muster a sound. Five, six, seven meters before I registered what happened.

“Link! _Link!_ ” I covered the few feet to the door easily enough. Half in, half out of the doorway, I must have looked like a fright at this point. He was almost halfway across the clearing before he looked over his shoulder. He stopped, and did a quarter-turn. His pride made him unable to stay, but he didn’t want to leave.

My lips barely parted, murmuring “stay” while taking a step out of the cottage. I didn’t know how he heard me, but Link cocked his head to the side like a hungry Remlit would.

“Please stay?” I thought a touch of politeness would sweeten the deal, and apparently it did, as he stormed over, his heavy footsteps creating swirls of dust in the dirt. He brushed by me and went through the door, muttering sullen words all the while. I felt no choice but to follow him through.

I stood helpless in the doorway, watching Link pace the length of the room. He ran his fingers through his locks more than once, and refused to hold eye contact for more than a second when they met. Link stopped and gripped the back of a chair, either in anger or for stability. He stared at the table for what seemed like years until his voice croaked out of the silence. “Do you really want to know why I built you all this?”

I imperceptibly nodded yes, too anxious to speak.

“I couldn’t stand being with you all the time. Just so damn flawless and perfect all at once.” Link took a deep breath and fixed his grip on the chair. “You really don’t get what you do to me, do you?” He looked up, his hooded eyes pleading for some form of absolution.

“No.” I slowly came around to his side of the table. “I really don’t.”

 Link watched me come closer like a starving man, and then glued his eyes back to the wood, the floor, anywhere but my eyes. “I can’t ever stop thinking about you. The way your hair dances in the wind. How you pick out the seeds before you bite into a fruit. How the birds sing along to any melody you make up. How your laughter rings throughout the forest and I can’t get the sound out of my head hours later. How you’ve used stray threads from your dress to mend the holes in my shirts. Or how you never complain if we’re eating burnt fish for the third night in a row - ”

“I happen to like your cooking!”

His exasperated sigh scared me. “How your eyebrows shoot straight up when you’re being defensive. How you hum when you do the simplest, most inane tasks. You make me feel weak. Tempted. I can’t remember the last time I didn’t dream about you and want to kill something once I woke up and I realized you and me – us, could never happen.”

My shaking hand went to his rough cheek. “You’re trembling.” His calloused hand slid into my soft one, the fading candles shifting dark to light from one hand to the next. The moment I touched him, a soft warmth spread all over my body. I wasn’t completely sure this was the most logical thing to do, but it didn’t seem wrong at all.

“I’ll be alright.” Link tore his eyes from the table to finally meet mine. “I wanted to build you a home to protect both of us. For our own good.” I gripped his hand tighter as he tried to let go.

“I’ll only feel like this is home when you’re here.” I took a steadying breathe before pressing on. “To stay.” I looked at him blankly, fully prepared to suffer a lifetime of awkward with him on the surface if this didn’t pan out how I hoped.

Link blinked and tried to stop a spreading smile. “I doubt I’ll be able to leave.”

“We both know I don’t want you to.” My grin was equally impossible to stop, making him hoot. He decreased the few inches between us in seconds, locking his lips on mine like I’ve wanted to for months, maybe even years.

“Zelda,” he whispered as I took a breath, a selfish break before diving back in, “I need to hunt in the morning.”

“And your point is?” I placed light kisses on his jaw as Link shoved me into the edge of the table, groaning in frustration.

“I have to wake up early,” he said with a strain to his voice. His hands strayed to my hips, almost scared to roam anywhere else.

I raised a brow. “I believe you’re perfectly capable of doing that here.”

“Are you sure?”

I kissed his chin before meeting his eyes again. “Yes. After all, this is your home,” I mumbled.

“Our home,” Link corrected me before pressing his lips to mine again, smiles on both of our faces. And in all honestly, I didn’t see a problem with that at all.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
